


Gone

by vassalady



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Steve's funeral, and Sam can only cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for myself, jsyk. More than normal, I mean, because I needed the experience of writing it.

At the very least, it was a beautiful day for it. The sun was out without a cloud in the sky. It was a little cool, but perfect for those wearing suits. Sam sat in the church, hands resting on his thighs. He was alone in there; the ceremony was being held outside.

Sam looked up at the cross that hung on the wall. He’d never been particularly religious, despite his father being a pastor. Steve had gone occasionally, for holidays, and Sam joined him, but he didn’t really think much of the afterlife. But Steve would have wanted it here.

It was where they had planned to get married after all.

Sam turned the ring on his finger. A little stupid to wear it, probably, but he hadn’t yet gotten a chance. Might as well, he thought.

He heard the door open, but he didn’t look back. The clack of heels gave away that it was Natasha. She touched his shoulder gently. “You ready?” she said.

“Hell no,” Sam said, and he gave her a wry grin. She looked devastatingly beautiful dressed all in black. Her hair was pulled back into a somber bun, brown for once, left over from some undercover work, he believed.

She returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Sam looked away. She had been through this so much more than he had; she had lost many friends and those important to her over the years, from a young age.

He didn’t ever want to get used to it. Once had been enough. This was…

Sam stood in a rush. “Let’s get this over with.”

To the right, there was a police cordon. All different kinds of people lined up along it. From where he was, Sam couldn’t see how far it went. For a moment, he selfishly didn’t want them there. He didn’t want anyone.

But it was necessary. Steve was an icon. He deserved no less.

He continued toward the graveyard connected to the church. The group that stood by the grave was much smaller, but still extensive. He walked by, Natasha just a step behind him, as he made his way to the head of the group. At the edges were news cameras. Further in, he passed familiar faces and friends. But to Sam, at that moment, they just felt like names. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Leila Taylor. Clint Barton. Joshua Cooper. Even Thor had managed to get away from his duties on Asgard to come. Nick Fury. Bernadette Rosenthal. Bruce Banner. Sharon Carter. There were others. Sam looked away, back at the ground.

on the small stage that had been set up, wearing a black coat over his suit, was Bucky Barnes. Sam and Bucky exchanged only a glance. And then Sam took his place at the mic. He looked at the sky, because he couldn’t look at all those faces. Beyond, he could see the crowds gathered.

He set his jaw and took a deep breath.

\--

_“That’s good to hear,” Sam said, holding Dave’s one remaining hand. “Hey, I’ll see you later for the game, yeah?”_

_“You got it, Wilson. This time, I’m beating you.”_

_Sam shook his head with a grin and waved goodbye. He said his goodbyes to those he met on the way out of the VA, more than ready to get home after a long day._

_He was halfway home when his phone rang. To his surprise, it was Natasha._

_“Hey, Nat,” he said as soon as he answered. “How’s it going?”_

_Her voice was rough and quiet. “Sam. Where are you?”_

_“Almost home, why?” He didn’t like the tone in her voice. “What’s wrong? You need backup? You okay?”_

_“No, it’s. Sam. He’s gone. Sam? You there?”_

_Behind him, Sam was vaguely aware of the sound of beeping. A stoplight. Right. But he just clutched the wheel, unable to move._

_The most ridiculous thing was his first thought was of Riley._

\--

“To be honest, I thought it was pretty weird, Captain America talking to me after beating the pants off me. But you know, he was a cool guy. So you know. Fell kind of hard after that.” Sam was speaking, he knew that. But he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying.

“Steve was many things. He was an inspiration. He was what this country should be. Idealist. Good. Honest. He-” Sam broke off and closed his eyes tightly. “You know we were going to get married next year? Kind of… Kind of puts a damper on those planes, dude, being dead.

“It’s not-” Fair, he was going to say. But of course it wasn’t. Nothing ever was.

Sam just shook his head. He wasn’t the one who made pretty speeches. Not when he still hurt so much. He stepped aside. Heard Bucky Barnes say a few words. Heard others take the mic. And Sam just looked resolutely at his feet.

\--

There was a clean up crew waiting somewhere, Sam was sure. But he couldn’t make himself move from his chair.

He heard footsteps, and he glanced up to see Bucky. Their eyes met for a long time. Sam suddenly couldn’t look away. If there was a person who knew a pain like his, it was Bucky.

Bucky didn’t say a word. He reached out his right hand. Sam stared at it for a moment before gripping it and letting himself be pulled up.

He clung to Bucky, and Bucky clung to him. Sam found himself gasping and sobbing. He shook so badly, it was a long time before he realized Bucky was, too.

\--

_“You know,” Steve said, with a casual smile, “maybe we should get married.”_

_They sat snuggled up on the couch marathoning the Matrix movies. This was the first time they’d been home in a week. They were nursing a few wounds, but were otherwise okay._

_Sam snorted. “Not if that’s your idea of a proposal, Rogers.”_

_“Yeah? What kind of proposal would you say yes to?”_

_Sam hummed, considering it. “Something big. Something monumental. After all, you’re lucky to have me.” He elbowed Steve in the stomach, and Steve laughed._

_Steve wrapped his arms around Sam. “Okay, I’ll find a way, then.”_

_Sam bit his lip to hide his smile. Damn Steve. This was really going to happen, wasn’t it?_

_When Steve proposed, he was on national television. He was almost done with an interview, and he paused to ask Tricia, the interviewer, if he could say something. Steve then looked off to the side, where Sam stood watching, before facing the camera again. Sam was watching the monitor as Steve asked him to marry him. And Steve just stood up and walked over to him, the cameras swinging around to follow him._

_“That good enough for you?” Steve said, holding his hands._

_“Yeah,” Sam said, shaking with laughter. “You’re a dick.”_

_He was pretty sure that was going to be bleeped out on air (a boom mic had appeared above them out of nowhere,) and Steve leaned in for a kiss._

\--

Sam couldn’t cry anymore. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose was chaffed from wiping away snot, and his throat was sore. 

He was lying on the floor of the living room where he had been sleeping for the last week.

He hadn’t been able to sleep in their bed. Not since… Well.

The thing was, as much as Sam felt gutted, his heart torn out, his life empty, he knew that, while it would never go away, life would go on. It would continue as it always had. He had experienced this before. He knew it would happen again.

But that was a long way off. And right now, he was drowning.

Sam found another small round of tears and cried once more into his pillow, the edge of the ring on his finger cutting into his skin.


End file.
